


No Rest for the Wicked

by MaeveBran



Category: Human Target - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-20
Updated: 2010-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-13 19:59:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/141203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaeveBran/pseuds/MaeveBran
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This may not have been what he expected but it was more restful than the just sleep he’d planned on. So maybe the office smelled like a mountain forest, but maybe that wasn’t a bad thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Rest for the Wicked

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hederahelix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hederahelix/gifts).



> This is set after episode 2.5 "Dead Head". Contains references to that episode that might be slight spoilers but nothing major.

Chance walked into the office and sniffed. The office wasn't supposed to smell like -- whatever it was he was smelling. The scent belonged to the woods outside the city, up in the mountains.

Not that he objected to the rich evergreen scent. He actually liked it. It reminded him of that time in Germany. And the other time in Quebec. And that other trip in Washington State. So, yeah, he'd ended up with some forced R and R after each of those missions and they had gotten pretty hairy, but that wasn't what the scent reminded him of. The memory it brought up was of being off on his own, surviving by his wits as he accomplished the job.

Chance pulled his gun from where he'd had it tucked into the waistband of his jeans and cautiously made his way further into the office. There he spied the source of the scent -- boughs and boughs of evergreen wound around the banisters and railings and tied securely with red velvet bows. And as if that wasn't enough spirit of the season for the new 'silent' partner, there was also a fifteen foot Noble fir tree, decorated in tasteful silver and red with tiny white lights.

Chance made his way over to the desk and checked the date – December 24. Yep. It was that time of the year. He should have known that Ilsa would be the type to get into the holiday spirit. Not that he really minded, but it had been years -- more like decades -- since Chance had even thought about celebrating the holiday.

Ilsa walked through the door, carrying a bag full of wrapped gifts and a box of goodies.

“Chance, when did you get back?” she asked as she walked over to the tree and started unpacking the gifts.

“Just now,” Chance answered. He put away his gun, then went to the kitchen to grab a glass and open the fridge for a drink. He couldn’t believe his eyes – the top shelf was full of cartons of eggnog. He shrugged and grabbed a container, then poured himself a glass. He took a sip and smiled. It reminded him of the happy part of his childhood.

“Good. I was worried you’d miss Christmas,” Ilsa said as she placed the last gift under the tree.

Chance came out of the kitchen and leaned in the doorway looking at the tree. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve missed Christmas,” he said. “To be honest, I don’t think I’ve really celebrated it since I was a kid.”

“That’s a shame,” Ilsa said as she took the box to the kitchen. She set it down, then pulled out an apron.

“What are you doing?” Chance asked as Ilsa turned on the oven and started getting a ham ready for reheating.

“I’m making Christmas dinner,” Ilsa replied as she pulled out some yams. “Winston and Guerrero should be here in an hour or so.”

“Of course they will,” Chance said as he took his bag and headed upstairs.

An hour later the smells coming from the kitchen pulled Chance downstairs, whether or not he had intended to attend. He did pick up a bag of gifts he’d accumulated on his travels. They weren’t really Christmas gifts, per se, just things he thought they’d like.

The conference table was set with what Chance supposed were traditional English Christmas dinner settings. Some of it was familiar, but the Christmas crackers and the ivy were table decorations he’d never practiced though he was acquainted with the custom.

“Chance is here,” Guerrero said. “So can we eat now?”

Ilsa carried out a platter heaped with ham. “Certainly.”

They gathered around the table. Winston looked around. “Something’s not quite right,” he pointed out. “Guerrero, where is that fireplace program?”

Guerrero did some fancy maneuvering on a keyboard and suddenly a crackling Yule log in a fireplace appeared on the screens around them.

“Now that’s better,” Winston sighed as he took his seat.

An hour later, the table looked like a swarm of locusts had descended on it and the paper from the crackers was littered around the place. Everyone, at Ilsa’s insistence, had donned the funny paper hats and moved into the lounge with after dinner drinks and stared at the tree.

“So, when do we open presents?” Guerrero asked.

“Guerrero, that’s not what Christmas is about,” Winston exclaimed.

“It is,” Guerrero insisted. “You eat a big meal and exchange gifts.”

Winston looked like he was about to say something but Ilsa interrupted him.

“It’s all right, Mr. Winston,” Ilsa said. “He has the rituals right but the meaning is something else entirely.” Ilsa stared at the tree for a moment. “It means family and right now you all are what passes for my family so I wanted to do something special.” She looked at Guerrero, and smiled. “And that did take the shape of presents.”

Ilsa walked over to the tree and pulled out a present that consisted of two boxes wrapped in tastefully expensive paper tied together with ribbon.

“This is for you, Guerrero,” Ilsa said, passing the gift to him.

Guerrero opened the box on top to find the collector’s complete edition of the Watchmen movie. Guerrero, being geek enough to understand, said, “Thanks, I kept meaning to pick this up but never got around to it.”  
“I’m glad you like it. I bought it on a whim because somehow you remind me of Rorshach,” Ilsa said with a laugh.

“Rorshach is cool and all but I prefer the Comedian,” Guerrero as he opened the second box. “A two terabyte hard drive? I didn’t think they made them that big yet.”

“I have a friend whose company is just starting to make them and I thought you could use the memory,” Ilsa explained.

“Thanks,” Guerrero said.

“Next, Mr. Winston,” Ilsa handed him a package that when opened contained a rare first edition book.

“Thank you, Ilsa,” Winston said as he reverently turned the book over in his hands.

“And lastly, Mr. Chance.” Ilsa handed him a rather large box.

Chance took it and found a new Kevlar vest inside.

“Before you say anything, I know you already have one but this is a new technology, just being produced for the British Military,” Ilsa explained.

Chance smiled at that logic. “Thank you. Glad to know you value my life.”

“I can’t have my best employee being killed because of outdated technology, can I?” Ilsa replied with a light laugh.

“I guess not,” Chance said as he went to the tree and handed her the gift he’d brought down for her.

Ilsa opened the plain gift bag to find a woman’s traditional Tibetan garb. “Why thank you, Chance. It’s beautiful.”

“It’s for the next time you come seeking someone at an Ashram, so you can blend in better,” Chance teased. Ilsa laughed.

“Guerrero and I got something for you as well,” Winston said as he and the hacker ducked into the back of the tree and brought out a giant duffle bag.

“What on Earth?” Ilsa said as they brought the bag to her.

“It’s an escape the office kit,” Guerrero explained. “You keep it in the trunk of your car and if you have to suddenly leave the office again, you have everything to live a life on the lam.”

Ilsa laughed as she took possession of the bag.

Chance looked around at the party in full swing, if a party of four could really be a swinging party. Sure, this wasn’t what he expected when he walked into the office a mere six hours ago but he’d take it. It seemed that Christmas could come to even the most hardened of people. Just look at Guerrero playing with his new hard drive.

This may not have been what he expected but it was more restful than the just sleep he’d planned on. So maybe the office smelled like a mountain forest, but maybe that wasn’t a bad thing.


End file.
